


The Well-Rounded Angel's Field Guide to Affection

by criminycakes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Does Not Understand, Castiel Does Not Understand Humans, Castiel Drives, Castiel Tries, Castiel in the Bunker, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, MOL Bunker, Men of Letters Bunker, Romance, Sam Ships It, Short, Short & Sweet, cute Destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5073511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/criminycakes/pseuds/criminycakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam leave Cas to his own devices for a few days and then have to deal with the confusing (and amusing) aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Well-Rounded Angel's Field Guide to Affection

  
It had all started on the day of the annual trip to Vegas. It was strictly a Dean-and-Sam thing, an opportunity for brotherly bonding (code for pretending their problems didn't exist and blowing off steam) so Castiel wasn't invited.  
'What should I do while you're gone?' he'd asked, stony-faced, arms hanging uselessly by his sides.  
Dean, uncomfortable with his own feelings of mild pity and with Cas' unsettling lack of direction, had rolled his eyes and lifted his hands in a half-shrug. 'I dunno, Cas, strap on your wings and go see Rio. Catch up on some sleep. Read a magazine.'  
Cas had leveled a heavy look at Dean. 'A magazine.'  
'Yes, a magazine, Ford Prefect. A little porn would probably be good for you. Or teach yourself to knit. Learn about cars. Just...figure it out. We'll be back in three days.'  
Dean tried not to think about the angel digging through his stack of Voluptuous Asian Lovelies mags. He kept them tucked away in a drawer, of course, but for years he'd just found it easier to assume Cas knew everything about him, inside and out, including his preferred porn-stash locations. That way he wasn't unpleasantly surprised when Cas cut right to the bone with some of his more vocal observations.

  
When Dean and Sam pulled up to the bunker coated with sticky, dusty Vegas residue, Castiel was nowhere to be found. Sam looked a little concerned, but Dean shrugged and assumed Cas had some sort of angel business to attend to. He sent Cas a quick text checking in, tossed his phone onto his bed, and went to the kitchen to make tacos.  
Tacos and burgers and all other kinds of fast food tasted so. Much. Better. When they weren't – well – fast. When Dean took the time to cobble it all together himself.  
He and Sam were halfway through a pile of soft-shell tacos, Sam reading a book propped up against his plate and Dean making obscene noises around mouthfuls of seasoned beef and really crisp lettuce, when Cas returned.  
He rounded the corner as quietly as a fox, obviously feeling no need to announce himself. Dean saw the movement from the corner of his eye. Sam hadn't noticed, completely intent on his book. Dean didn't bother turning around. 'Hey Cas.' Sam jumped and his book faceplanted into his food. He sucked in a breath through his teeth and moved faster than Dean knew he could to pull the book up and wipe greasy stains from the pages. Dean snorted.  
'Hello.' Cas deadpanned. Dean turned to look at him properly and was surprised to see the angel holding a dirty, dripping potted plant bursting with small purple flowers.  
Sam looked up from saving his book and did a double-take. 'Uh, Cas? What is that?' Cas opened his mouth to answer.  
Dean shook his head. 'Y'know, Cas, I'm all for you going Better Homes and Gardens on the place but none of us are going to remember to water that thing.'  
'I didn't it get it as a houseplant. They're African violets, used in protective amulets.'  
Dean was on the alert immediately. 'What do we need protecting from?'  
'Nothing at the moment.' Cas crossed over to Dean and shoved the potted plant into his taco-y hands. He looked at Dean expectantly. Dean looked back, equally expectantly, holding the dripping plant away from him. Cas didn't elaborate.  
'So why am I holding this then?' Dean stared at the plant - its small shiny leaves, its unapologetically colorful flowers, the black-as-tar dirt it was potted in – then back at Cas.  
'It's for you. I thought that it would be useful.'  
Sam looked back and forth between them. Dean put the plant down on the table and flicked his hands to get the muddy water off. 'Oh. Well.' He bobbed his head in a yeah-I-guess movement and turned back to his food. He wasn't about to question Cas' logic. The angel just did peculiar stuff sometimes, and when Dean asked about it, Cas always sighed and explained with painful exasperation. It was never very important for Dean to understand anyway, so he simply filed Cas under 'Unfathomable Inner Workings' along with cats, Twitter, and teenagers, and didn't worry about it.  
Sam cleared his throat at Dean and inclined his head towards Cas. It was his 'where are your manners' face. Cas was still looking at Dean curiously.  
'Uh...thanks?'

  
A week later found the three of them exhausted, irritable, and sitting in the middle of a huge pile of reference books about cave-dwelling creatures, humanoid monsters, and tuberous plants. They had already ruled out shifters and dragons. The people who had gone missing from the tiny town of Lebanon, Kansas were not virgins and no one had seen any doppelgangers. The sewer-lair that they'd followed the monster back to after they'd seen it attacking a woman was clear of both gold and shifter skin goop. The only thing of note aside from a bed of dirty rags and old towels was a bowl of twisted green roots. The woman who'd been attacked was currently unconscious in the hospital, so no leads there.  
Dean slammed the giant leather-bound volume he was reading ('Mimicking the Human Form: A Study of Shapeshifting Mutations') shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. 'I got nothin'. Tell me you found something.'  
Sam closed his file ('Cave-Dwelling Creatures of Oceania; H-M') and sighed. 'Nothing. Cas?'  
Castiel looked up from 'Common Tuberous Plants with Medicinal Properties.' 'I believe the roots are from the plant Wasabia Japonica.' He flipped the book around and held it up for Sam and Dean to see. Sure enough, there was a botanical print of the very same roots that were currently sitting on the table in the middle of the room.  
'Wasabia? Like wasabi?' Sam asked.  
'That spicy green sushi gunk?' Dean added.  
Cas nodded. 'Yes. Apparently it's a digestive stimulant.'  
'Oh, great.' Dean grouched. 'A monster with a healthy appetite.'  
'Wasabia Japonica is a plant that needs very specific conditions to grow. It only thrives in certain areas, the most common of which are mountainous streams or rivers in Japan.'  
'So we're looking for a Japanese monster that lives in mountain caves.' Sam announced it like a drill sergeant and began to search eagerly through the pile of books.  
Dean groaned and pushed himself to his feet. He hated research, he really did. 'Dude. We've been at it for hours. I'm human, I need dinner first.' He started toward the door.  
Sam didn't look up. 'Bring me back something. We can hold down the fort while you go.'  
Cas paused in the act of following Dean. Sam looked up, saw, and raised his eyebrows. 'Or not.'  
Dean chuckled. 'Just cuz _you're_ a bookworm, Sammy....' He reached for the keys, but Cas beat him to it.  
'I'll drive.'  
'Absolutely not.'  
Cas gave Dean a look that was a cross between offended and stubborn. 'I _can_ drive, Dean.'  
'Barely. No dice, Cas, gimme the keys.'  
'Then we can take my car.'  
Dean huffed in frustration. He was too hungry for this, he just wanted to get away from the musty smell of reading. 'Suit yourself. Let's go.'  
The short drive into Lebanon would have been hair-raising if Dean weren't made of stronger stuff. Even so, despite his nerves of steel, he found his foot automatically stomping down onto an imaginary brake every time they came up to a junction or a traffic light. It was like Cas didn't understand the concept of 'gradual.'  
They went to the Chinese takeout place that Dean frequented when too tired to cook and ordered a medley of different meaty dishes with varying sauces. Cas WOULD get the one that mixed pork and pineapple. Dean shook his head and pulled out his wallet to pay. Cas raised his hand to stop Dean and brought out his own wallet. (Sort of. It was an old one of Sam's.)  
Dean watched as Cas paid the surly man behind the counter, confused, wondering if Cas was going through some sort of identity crisis. What was going on? Cas never volunteered to drive or pay. He was usually content to follow along in the Winchesters' wake and let them take care of the mundane day-to-day human stuff.  
'You sure know how to treat a girl, Cas.' Dean slipped his wallet back into his pants pocket.  
'Which girl?'  
Dean gave up.

  
The unconscious victim woke up and the hospital called Sam and Dean (No, excuse me, Agents Roeser and Bloom) so they headed out to interview her about the attack. She was nervous and upset. After the whole spiel about how they would think she was crazy, she told them that the man was able to read her mind and somehow predict everything she was about to do. She added, shakily, that he had started to throw her own thoughts back at her before she had even finished thinking them.  
'You ever heard of anything that could do that?' Sam asked as they walked back to the car.  
Dean shook his head, aggravated. 'No, never. It looks human and reads minds, maybe it's another kind of djinn offshoot?'  
'I don't think so. It wasn't making her hallucinate, it was just...psychic.'  
'What the hell, Sam?' Dean sighed. There was no venom in it, he was simply confused.  
'You got me. So what now?'  
'I'll call Cas and fill him in, maybe he'll find something in the archives. We should go back to the crime scene and the sewer and do a sweep, see if there's anything we missed.'  
Dean called Cas and put him on speakerphone so he and Sam could tell him about the woman's story. Cas sighed and agreed to keep trawling through the books. 'Thanks, Cas. Let us know if anything comes up.'  
Dean was already reaching for the 'end call' button as Cas said, 'I will.' Then, almost as an afterthought, 'Dean, you are a remarkable man and a very competent hunter.' He hung up.  
Dean gaped at the phone, then looked at Sam, dumbfounded. 'What - ?' Understanding spread across Sam's face and he started laughing.  
'What?' Dean asked, annoyed.  
'Ahhh, nothing.' He patted Dean's shoulder obnoxiously. 'Just...good luck with that.'  
'Dude, don't – do that thing you do.'  
'What thing?'  
'That _thing_. With your face. Like you know something I don't.'  
Sam just grinned like the cat that got the canary and Dean out and out _refused_ to indulge his know-it-all brother by begging for information. He narrowed his eyes. 'Get in the car.'

The next day when Cas gave Dean, of all things, a shoebox filled with Snickers bars, Sam was a perfect blend of delighted and smug. 

  
It turned out the monster was a Satori, a Japanese creature that appeared human and preyed on lone travelers. A carnivorous clairvoyant nut job that gained strength from sucking out others' thoughts and feelings. The only way to get the drop on it was to make your mind completely blank. Needless to say, the Winchesters failed spectacularly and would've been the thing's lunch if it hadn't been for Cas. The lore hadn't mentioned any special way of killing it but decapitating it while it choked the crap out of Cas seemed to do just fine.  
They stumbled back to the bunker bloody and exhausted and Dean headed to his room, fully prepared to collapse on his bed in his dirty clothes and sleep for a couple days. It wasn't to be. Dean opened his bedroom door and yelled. He had his gun out and aimed before he even knew what he was doing. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he stared at a huge stuffed grizzly bear looming in the middle of the room. Its mouth was open in a silent snarl, its claws spread out and glinting dully in the yellow light.  
'Dean!'  
Dean heard pounding footsteps as Sam and Cas crashed in through the doorway. Dean, mouth dry, gestured silently at the bear. There was a moment of silence, then Sam bent double, wheezing with laughter. He hung on to the doorframe and shook, unable to speak.  
'Do you not like it?' Cas asked.  
Dean's eyes bulged. 'YOU put this here?'  
'Yes, of course.'  
'Cas, what the hell? Why?' Sometimes you just had to make it obvious when you were talking to Cas.  
'The magazine suggested that I get you a stuffed animal.'  
'Magazine?'  
'Yes.'  
'What magazine?'  
'Cosmopolitan.'  
There was a renewed peal of laughter from the doorway and Sam clutched at his ribs. Thinking of Cas reading Cosmo was like imagining Genghis Khan at a tea party. Dean wasn't sure if Cas was even capable of embarrassment, but he didn't want to risk offending him, so he swallowed his laughter. 'Cas, what's going on with you? With the bear and the Snickers and saying weird stuff?'  
'I am attempting courtship. Is it not working?'  
Dean felt all the blood drain from his face and then rush back. He was beet red, he could tell. He glanced reflexively at Sam, who was hiccuping now.  
'Sam, give us a minute.'  
'Say no more.' Sam left, wiping his eyes.

  
'Courtship? You're...courting me?'  
'Yes. The magazine listed typical actions that reveal romantic interest. The article said I should bring you flowers, compliment you, take you to dinner, and bring you a box of chocolates, among other things.'  
Dean sat down on the bed, his brain still trying to wrap itself around 'romantic interest.' He was roiling with embarrassment and had absolutely no idea what to do in this situation but Cas was obviously sincere and Dean felt sort of responsible when it came to Cas' haplessness about being human. Dean would be damned if he let Cas down. He wouldn't let his discomfort make Cas uncomfortable. He took a deep breath. Where to even start? First (and easiest) things first.  
'Cas, why were you reading Cosmo? Where did you even find it?'  
'You told me to read a magazine during your road trip to Nevada. So I went out and got one.'  
Ah. Dean supposed that made sense. 'So you looked at the mags and – what? Decided you were a Cosmo girl? Why - ' he shuddered ' - Cosmo?'  
'Because the cover said 'The Hunt: How to Get Your Man' and I thought it might be helpful advice for hunting. It was not what I expected.' Dean dropped his head into his hands and stifled a groan. He couldn't believe they were having this conversation. 'It was still very educational.'  
'Cas. The stuff in those magazines isn't real.' He struggled for words. 'That's not the way real life works. Those articles are written by people who have nothing to do with you, or me.' Cas' face fell. 'Not that I don't appreciate the gestures!' Dean added hastily. 'It's just...there's no need for...all that.'  
'I understand.' Cas turned to leave.  
Dean's heart twisted a little. 'I don't think you do.' Cas stopped. 'I didn't mean....' Dean got up and walked over to Cas. 'I don't mean that I'm not...you know. I just mean that if you wanted to...if you feel....' He rubbed his forehead, shading his eyes. 'You only needed to talk to me, Cas, you didn't need to take advice from a magazine.'  
Cas turned to face him head-on and nodded. 'Alright. I would like to let you know that I am romantically interested in you.'  
Dean flushed again. 'Yeah. I got that.'  
'Would you like me to remove the bear?'  
Dean gave the animal an appraising look. 'Hm. Actually, I kinda like it. He can stay.'  
'It's female.'  
'Oh. Well, can you help me move her over against the wall?'  
Cas flicked his wrist and the terrifying mass of fur slid several feet to the right. Dean gave it the once-over as Cas left. As far as bad gifts went, this one was his favorite. After the initial heart-stopping terror.

  
Three days later, Cas was in the kitchen attempting to make breakfast when Dean walked in, yawning. 'What's cookin' good-lookin'?'  
Cas cocked his head at Dean. 'Eggs.'  
Dean stepped up behind Cas and reached around him for the coffeepot. He briefly rested his other hand on Cas' hip, and that was, of course, when Sam walked in with a newspaper and cleared his throat.  
'Ahem. Am I interrupting something? Do you guys need a minute?'  
'Shaddup.' Dean poured himself a mug of coffee.  
Cas nudged Dean back so he could pick up the frying pan and scrape the scrambled mess off onto a big plate.  
Sam sniffed the air. 'Something burning?'  
Dean looked around and lunged to smack the button on the toaster before the fire alarms went off. The last time Cas had cooked the whole bunker had gone into lockdown and the sprinklers in the kitchen had soaked all the food. Cas stared at the blackened toast like it had personally let him down. Dean chucked the toast into the bin and loaded the toaster with fresh bread.  
'So Jody thinks she found us a job. Three people killed in a town in Colorado in the last week. Houses locked, no sign of forced entry, and all the vics were missing organs.'  
'Hm. Could be a cat burglar slash serial killer.' Dean popped the toast and started buttering it.  
'Which organs were missing?' Cas asked curiously.  
'Uh.' Sam checked the newspaper. 'This doesn't say. But we can hack into the police reports online.'  
'Alright,' Dean mumbled through a mouthful of toast, 'let's see what we can see.'  
The three of them sat at the table and ate Cas' horrendous attempt at scrambled eggs with good grace. And if Dean hooked his leg around Cas' under the table, well, that was his own business.


End file.
